Power
by calendaes
Summary: Dawn didn’t lurk in the stairwell much these days. A Dawn challenge fic set after Killer in Me.


Title: Power   
Email: jennyb@kpunet.net   
Pairing: Dawn & Kennedy   
Requirements: Dawn beats Kennedy in a physical challenge or game.   
Disclaimer: Not mine, and I make no money off of this.   
Notes: Written for **bethanymindseye **in **_green_ **'s Dawnficathon challenge on livejournal.  
  
_

* * *

Due to the lack of experienced trumpeters, the end of the world has been postponed for three weeks.  
  
~anonymous  
  
_Dawn didn't lurk in the stairwell much these days. She heard the voices in the basement from her perch in the living room just fine, thank you very much. Shrieks and grunts and speeches muffled by the layers of stone, wood and an ancient magic that separated her from them. Yesterday's key. And now the whispered worries of hidden conversations drifting from the corners of hallways were all about what to do with the girls, plural, instead of the make believe sister who never disappeared, singular.  
  
Dawn did what she could to make herself useful, studying the tiny scratches on yellowed parchment, struggling to make sense of it all until she felt like her eyes would melt. She didn't complain when Buffy forgot to tell her that Janice called or forgot to say hello for a week straight. Buffy was the slayer. She knew what had to be done. And, apparently, that didn't include Dawn.  
  
So Dawn read.  
  
And she watched. She saw the potentials line up outside, some of them younger than herself, and sighed to herself as they stumbled through group exercises. Kennedy barked orders and in return they tried their best. And then Kennedy yelled some more. She really wasn't a very good motivator. But Willow saw something in her, something that could bring her back from whatever spell had turned her into Warren the jerk last week, so Dawn had to try and see the good.   
  
A daunting task indeed.  
  


* * *

  
  
Dawn found CJ hiding under the stairs in the basement. As far as she could make out from CJ's thick southern accent and tear clogged voice, the youngest potential was hiding from one of Kennedy's self-titled hell' sessions. Sighing, Dawn coaxed the girl out into the open basement.  
  
I won't tell if you won't. She cleared a patch off the practice mat and sat down. Come on, CJ. You can help me with some research.  
  
CJ sat down, still huddling in on herself and played with a stake left behind on the mat. No. I should go. It'll just be worse if she finds out I hid. Besides, she's the one who knows what she's doing, right? I mean, I've never even had a watcher. Didn't even know what a slayer was until Mr. Giles knocked on my door. And now... CJ's lip trembled and she looked over at Dawn with her watery eyes. God. How do you do this? I know I sound stupid, but we could die at any time. Literally. And according to Kennedy, I'd be one of the first to go.  
  
The faint clanging of pipes drowned out the sound of CJ's hiccuping breath and Dawn took the moment to stare at the cracks in the concrete and formulate a response to the despondent girl.   
  
It's always difficult when faced-- Dawn sighed and started over. Sorry, no speechifying here, okay? It sucks to be so scared all the time. Sucks majorly. And this feeling helpless thing? Not very fun either, to severely understate it. But--and this is going to sound really cheesy--you're not alone. Every single one of us is scared. Even Sergeant Kennedy. She's shaking in her boots. Buffy too. And whether it seems like it or not, we all do care whether you live or die. And we might. Die, I mean. But we're going to stay here and fight, because that's what we need to do.   
  
CJ sniffed loudly and looked up the stairs. So I'm not alone. Still doesn't change the fact that I'm probably going to die, does it?  
  
Shuffling feet tromped across the ceiling overhead, announcing the Giles' return. Dawn's gaze drifted towards the stairs. Maybe. Maybe not. There's no way to know for sure. But Kennedy hasn't been tested on the battlefield, where it counts. Training isn't everything when it comes to your apocolypse-type battles.  
  
CJ put down her stake and smiled weakly at Dawn. More footsteps joined Giles' in the kitchen upstairs. Really? I thoug-- Her words were cut off by a fuming Kennedy stomping down the stairs.  
  
CJ! Where the hell were you? Did you run to your little hidey hole again? Do you think the First is going to forget about you because of your oh so clever crouch under the stairs defense? Kennedy stopped by the edge of the mat, crossing her arms and glaring.  
  
I didn-- CJ stammered while Dawn put her arm in front of CJ.  
  
Kennedy. Lay off. I asked for her help. Dawn pushed herself to her feet and glared back at Kennedy. She nodded at CJ. CJ, go upstairs and see if Andrew needs help with lunch. And thank you. You really helped.  
  
I don't see any books down here. What could you possibly have been researching?  
  
I don't know, Kennedy. Maybe about how much of a jerk you are? There's not a general consensus. Some say while others say I, myself, think you're more of a ass than a jerk.  
  
You want to go, Summers? Because I can kick your ass any time, any place. Unlike the rest of the girls, I don't care that you're Buffy's little sister. Because if you suck as much as she does, this should be over in about thirty seconds. Kennedy threw her workout jacket on the floor and got in a fighting stance.  
  
Oh, I'm ready. It's go time, bee-yatch. Dawn rolled up her sleeves and scooted back on the mat. But no hand to hand. And I get to choose weapons. She walked over to the weaponry cabinet and pulled out two wooden practice swords. Here. First to possible death strike wins.  
  
Wins what?  
  
Nothing. But I won't tell Buffy about this little confrontation if you win. And if I lose, you can tell Buffy that I'm monopolizing the potentials' time. She won't be happy about that.  
  
Kennedy caught the sword and slashed the air, inches from Dawn's face. You get that for free. Next one's not going to be so far away.  
  
They circled around the basement, each eyeing the other warily. Dawn backed into the corner by Spike's cot and stopped in a fierce defensive stance. Fights are about power. Who has it. Who doesn't. Right now, you have the power, Kennedy.  
  
Kennedy stopped for a moment, a strange look on her face.   
  
But you aren't using that power wisely. Those girls are so afraid to make a mistake, they aren't learning anything. Think you don't need backup? Kennedy lunged forward and Dawn deflected and dodged to the left. You do. And those girls are it. They need to learn, Kennedy.  
  
I am teaching them the best I can. It's not like I had a chance to train with my watcher before the bringers ripped him to pieces in front of me. The threat is real, Dawn. You should be shaking in your boots. And so should the rest of the girls. Kennedy pulled back from her attack and circled back to the far side of the mat. Her expression hardened.   
  
Kennedy rushed Dawn, sword poised for a win. At the last second, Dawn crouched, hitting Kennedy in the midsection and throwing her to the ground. She straddled Kennedy, her sword hovering directly over Kennedy's heart. Yeah. They should be afraid. But not of you.  
  
Dawn stepped back and started over to the stairs, dropping the sword back in the cabinet on her way.   
  
I win. Now, I can go to Buffy to let her know how you've been treating the other girls during training or--you can lighten up on them. It's your choice. But I'll be watching you. I may not have your power, but I can still kick your ass if I have to.  
  



End file.
